


I Should Have Known

by Beki1507



Series: Fortuitous [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Light Angst, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beki1507/pseuds/Beki1507
Summary: He'll always remember that night. He will always remember that guy he met so briefly. It had been 2 and a half years since the night that started on the bridge. Surely he would just forever be part of his memory now?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Fortuitous [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564804
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	I Should Have Known

Ian was just closing his locker to leave for the night when Sue and Raoul approached him, cupcake in hand and a small candle burning on top. 

“Happy six month anniversary, Ian!” Sue said cheerfully, holding the cake closer to him to allow him to blow out the candle. He was touched that they had remembered and smiled happily. 

“Thank guys. You fancy drinks tonight? Just the one, of course.” 

“No can do,” Raoul stated, a sense of despondency in his tone, “Baby’s due in like 3 weeks and Claire is paranoid he is going to come early. I think my life, as I know it, is officially over.” 

“Sue?” Ian questioned, hoping that she would agree to even a quick one. It had been a while since he had gone out with them and he was feeling the need to just kick back a little. 

“Can we rain check? I am beat tonight. Sorry kiddo.” Sue wasn’t that much older than Ian, but she had developed this habit of calling him kiddo. At a push, she could just about be his mom. By Southside standards, at least. He sighed despondently but accepted his fate of pizza and a night in front of the TV. Maybe Carl would be around tonight. He was spending more time at his girlfriend’s and less with his brother, however. Ian didn’t begrudge his love life, but sometimes he just wished that he could just take off to his boyfriend’s house. His completely imaginary, but oh so perfect, boyfriend. 

It had been nearly 2 and a half years since he’d wrapped his previous life up and tied it off with a pretty little bow. His last film had earned him an Oscar nomination, but even that couldn’t sway his decision to leave the film industry behind and just become a regular Joe. With the money he had, Lip was still able to live in Los Angeles, though he was now in employment. Ian had sold the palatial house in the north of Chicago, in favour of a small 3 bed, 2 bath house in the same area. Fiona was living there with Liam while he finished his education. Debbie had decided to move in with college friends, and he lived quite happily with Carl in their own apartment. It was nothing like their life had previously been but peace of mind was worth more than anything else for Ian these days. 

He was now working as an EMT, hoping to work his way up to becoming a paramedic. He was Ian once again. Clayton Gallagher was now just the name of his uncle, father, whoever. Sure everyone in his station knew who he used to be, and he had been recognised on a few shouts. However, when someone had a bone sticking out of their leg or were gasping for breath following a bad encounter with a bee and a previously unknown allergy, they couldn’t give a damn if he was the Dalai Lama. He was saving their life and that was all that mattered. 

He trudged into his apartment, threw his coat on the hook by the door and flopped down on the couch. Today has been day 8 of a 9 day run. One more day and then he was free for two. He didn’t have any concrete plans but part of him kind of just wanted to sleep and eat. He threw a hot pocket in the microwave before grabbing a beer from the fridge. His meds meant that he couldn’t drink much but he wasn’t about to give up alcohol completely. He stared at the pictures on the fridge door. Most from his current life but a few from his previous incarnation. It had been quite an adjustment but he hadn’t regretted it for a single moment. 

His mind was brought back to that night when he had been moments from ending it all. Ian remembered writing thank you on a scrap of paper but he always wished that he’d made more of an effort to track the guy down, thank him properly. He had been instrumental in getting Ian back on track. Ian knew that the majority of the work to restore his broken mind had been down to himself and his own actions. However, he knew that if Mickey hadn’t pulled him back from the edge and just been there for him that night, then he wouldn’t be where he was today. Quite literally. 

He went to bed that evening with thoughts of Mickey on his mind. Maybe now was the time to try and find him again. He’d once gone back to the flat Mickey had shared with his sister, only to find that they had left and no one knew their new address. Now, with just a vague recollection of his look – dark hair, piercing blue eyes, a strong physique, FUCK U-UP tattoos on his hands – and a first name, he knew it would take a Herculean effort to track him down in a city of 2.7 million.

****

“Mandy, if you want a lift, you’ve got two minutes. Not ready, I leave without you.” Mickey hollered from the bottom of the stairs. He was still getting used to being in a house that had two floors. In their old place, he could literally be stood in the kitchen whispering some shit and she would still hear him from her room. The extra space they now had was unnerving. 

They had moved slightly out of Chicago after Mickey’s construction job had given him a promotion to foreman. Even though he had only 6 years real experience, his work ethic and the fact that he was a quick learn meant that his bosses had moved him up the ladder quickly. He was thankful to them as well. They could have looked at his wrap sheet and balked at the thought of hiring an ex-con. Fortunately, they hadn’t and now he and his sister were happy in their little piece of suburbia. Sure both of them were still haunted by their past every now and then. However, they were both happy and healthy, and he couldn’t really ask for more than that. He picked up his keys and rattled them loudly. The thunder feet of Mandy made their way across the landing and down the stairs. 

“You need to get laid.” She huffed as she grabbed the travel coffee cup Mickey had prepared. 

“Bitch, why?”

“Cos you’re a grumpy bastard if you haven’t had your dick wet for a while. You’re currently being a grumpy bastard ergo you need sex.”

“Ergo?” Mickey said as his left eyebrow raised into his hairline.

“It means therefore in Latin, douche.”

“I know what it means, I just didn’t know you would.” 

“Go to Boystown, fuck a dude, come back happy, stop hassling me. We going?”

****

Ian wandered in to station house, rubbing his eyes with his right hand. In his left was a hot cup of coffee from the shop down the street. It had been a long night of watching films before jerking off after having gone down the Mickey path. He didn’t understand how after all these years and with absolutely nothing sexual having occurred, this guy could manifest in his mind so easily. Sue gave a knowing look when she saw him stroll in. She had been his partner for the majority of his time as an EMT. Occasionally, if she was on vacation, he would partner with Raoul. However, they had formed a tight bond and worked well together. She wandered over to him as he changed into his work shirt.

“Long night, Gallagher?” Ian shot her the stink eye before finishing up tucking his shirt into his pants. “I’m so ready for this day to be over already.”

“12 hours to go and then off for 2 days. It can’t come quick enough.”

Their day had meandered at a snail’s pace. It wasn’t that Ian was hoping for massive traumas and high drama all day, but their day had literally been one trivial case after another. The highlight, and he used the term loosely, came when the old lady who thought she was having a heart attack, actually just had gas and proceeded to throw up over Ian. A quick shower and shirt change, and they were back on the road again waiting for the next call. 

Ian had just popped out to get him and Sue a couple of drinks. As he hopped back into the cab, she gave him that knowing look. 

“Big trauma?”

“Wouldn’t you believe it? Construction site, two men falling off the roof onto concrete followed by a wall collapse. One seriously injured, one alert and talking.”

“Let’s go then.” Sue hit the sirens and they were off, their drinks forgotten about.

****

When they reached the site, there was pandemonium. It seemed like every construction worker within a 3 miles radius had descended on the spot. Add in the several cop cars and the fire trucks, and Ian knew this was going to be the call that would likely push him into overtime. Ian and Sue managed to elbow their way through and were met by the chief fire officer, Paul. 

“Paul, what do you know?” Ian asked. He was assessing the situation, trying to establish what could have happened, “This place is chaos.”

“Foreman is one of those trapped. Went up to the roof to check over a few things. He was standing on one side of it when it came down. There’s him and another worker currently trapped under the rubble inside. Foreman is a guy called Mikhailo Milkovich. He’s the one who is alert at the moment. Left arm and leg are pinned under the masonry. The other guy, Preston Ford, is trapped and it’s not looking good. There is another crew inside. My men have made it safe but we need to work on getting the wall up off the two guys as soon as possible.” Ian looked at the half collapsed building and wondered how either men had survived the fall. It looked like a bomb had gone off inside it. He grabbed his pack and made his way inside, Sue following close behind. 

The dust was thick and acrid as they climbed into the main area of damage. Ian could see the firefighters planning their next move. His ex, Caleb, was within the group and he nodded curtly towards him. That had been a mistake he wasn’t willing to repeat. Caleb made his way over to the two of them and gave them a quick update. 

“The two victims are about 10 feet apart. Between them is the majority of the wall. To get to Preston, you have to go left, whilst for Mickey you have to go right. Mickey is still alert, keeps shouting to his worker. We’ve got two paramedics with Preston, trying to stabalise him. Donna from your station is currently with Mickey.” Ian nodded his head before he began the descent towards Mickey. The collapse had seen the building cave in right through to the basement. There were occasional shafts of light, but he was reliant on his torch to guide him to the patient. The dust was beginning to claw at his throat and he wondered how Mickey was faring. His torch caught on Donna, who smiled at him briefly.

“Mickey, this is Ian. He’s my colleague. I don’t think he’s brought the good stuff either, I’m afraid.” Donna laughed as Ian quirked a brow.

“You in pain, Mickey?” Ian asked, confused by Donna’s statement. He wondered why she hadn’t administered the pain relief he knew she would be carrying if he was suffering. 

“Mickey was saying how when he gets out of here, he’s taking a vacation and getting, in his words, ‘fucked up’. Told him I only had pain meds and nothing that would give him the buzz he was looking for.”

“Meds are working though.” Mickey uttered from his prone position. Ian glanced down at the patient properly for the first time and was struck by a sense of familiarity. The dark hair, the blue eyes, that voice. His brain started trawling through the rolodex of people he had encountered, trying to place this guy. Even with blood and dust smearing his face, there was something so familiar about this guy. There was an obvious answer, but surely that couldn’t be possible?

“His blood pressure and heart rate are normal. To say he fell from the roof, he’s doing surprisingly well. Caleb said that they should be able to release him shortly and then we’ll have to get him out and to the ER as quickly as possible.” Ian nodded, glancing down at their patient. “Any word on the other one?” Donna asked quietly. Mickey had been asking about his worker since she had reached him. 

“GCS 3.” Ian uttered. He watched as Donna’s face fell and she shook her head solemnly. Though Preston had yet to pass, from everything that had been said and unsaid, it was likely that he wouldn’t make it. They could hear the EMT frantic voices. They were astute in signalling urgency in their voice with none of the chaos of regular people. He could hear the tell-tale signs of such a situation. Ian moved his tall frame to be closer to Mickey. He wanted to make sure that there was nothing more they could do for him whilst they waited for the fire crew to make his extraction possible. 

“How are you doing, Mickey?” Ian questioned. Mickey glanced up at him and smiled weakly. 

“Been better, been worse.”

“You regularly find yourself under buildings?” 

“Inanimate objects hurt less than some of the beatings I have taken. How is Preston?” Ian tried to school his face to not show the concern that he was feeling for the other man, “Don’t bullshit me, man.” Mickey growled, though there was a weariness to his voice that couldn’t be denied. Deep down, Ian realised, he probably already knew.

“Not good, I’m afraid.” Mickey simply nodded and exhaled heavily. 

“I fucked up. I should have known all the parts of this building.” His mind became a slew of what ifs and whys. Knowing that one of his men was gravely ill was not helping his own condition. Ian looked down on him, concern lining his face. Ian noticed the pallor of Mickey’s skin and his breath becoming increasingly laboured. He placed two fingers against his neck and his pulse was thready. 

“Yeah, you ain’t doing that.” Ian uttered as he flipped his actions up a gear. The words sounded familiar in his head, but he quickly dismissed it for more pressing matters. He began calling out demands to the rest of the team. They had to get Mickey out of there as quickly as possible as his condition was deteriorating rapidly. 

****

They handed Mickey over to the emergency team at the hospital, his situation having become critical in the drive over. He was hanging on but barely. As soon as Ian stepped back, Sue was there with him. She patted his shoulder briefly before leading his back to the rig. They would need to go back to the station to clean up but at this point in time, they surprisingly still had nearly three hours left on their shift. The mood in the cab was sombre. They’d heard news that Preston had died and Mickey was now having emergency surgery. 

“We did everything possible, Ian. You know you can’t do this to yourself. The injuries Preston had would have rendered him paralysed at best. The accident did that, not anything our teams did. You know as well as I do how quickly a situation can change with a patient.” Sue’s words were going in one ear and out the other. Reason didn’t play into Ian’s thought process at the moment. They had lost people before, it came with the territory. However, he still couldn’t shake the connection that he had with Mickey. There was definitely some kind of history. He knew his bipolar meant his memory could be hazy at times. “Anyway, that Mickey guy seems like he’s tough as fuck. Did you see his hands?”

“Hands?” Ian questioned, glancing at Sue briefly, taking a reprieve from the memory trawling. 

“Yeah, Fuck U-UP across his knuckles. That’s a bold statement that you kind of have to live up to.” 

“Oh shit!” Ian exclaimed, as it dawned on him. Sue stared at him from the driver’s seat, stunned by his outburst, “He saved my life.” He could see from her face that she was completely at a lost, “Back in my former life, I tried to kill myself. A few times actually. It was the last attempt though. I was going to jump into the Chicago River. Mickey was on the bridge and he stopped me. We talked that night. Watched a film. Something so fucking simple. He made me realise that I needed to change my life so that it worked for me and not against me. He’s the reason I quit acting and the reason I am still here today. He literally saved my life.” There was a moment of contemplation before the reality seeped into his mind. “He saved my life but I couldn’t save his.” 

“Less of the pity party, Ian. The guy isn’t dead.” Ian finished the sentence in his mind by adding a yet. Who could survive a 30 foot fall and a concrete wall collapsing on them? When they had left, he was being rushed to the OR to repair the damage to his arm, but he knew he was barely hanging on? He recalled the conversation on the bridge. Mickey saying he stayed alive to spite his father. He hoped that there was someone around now to keep him alive. Someone to encourage him to fight. 

The rest of his shift passed in a blur. He was thankful for the easy procedures and the mundane crap for once. His mind kept flitting back to Mickey and how he wished he had said thank you to him. If only he had realised at the time. As he grabbed his bag from his locker, 12 long hours finally at an end, Sue knew where he would be heading. She offered to drop him off at the hospital and he gratefully accepted.

****

There was something about hospitals that always set Ian on edge. Even though he visited them daily in his role, everything was moving so fast, it never really registered. Yet, when he was there as a visitor, out of his uniform, he always felt this anxiety build inside him. As he stalked into the clinical reception area of the ICU, he nodded towards the nurse who he recognised. She was always so friendly to him; flirtatious, probably, if he were to analyse their interactions. She stood behind the desk and beamed at him. 

“Ian Gallagher, what brings you here in your civvies?” Naomi asked, her voice sweet but quiet. There was a certain expectation on this particular floor that they would keep respectful for the patients and their families. He strolled over to the desk and laid his coat down on the counter. He was about to respond when a tsunami of anger stormed into the space behind him. 

“You need to tell me what the fuck is going on with my brother? He’s been gone for nearly 2 hours now and the nurse said it would only be an hour at most. Where the fuck is he?” The voice was emanating from a tiny, raven haired woman who had the fury of Hades inside her. A nurse rushed to her side but was brushed off quickly. 

“Miss Milkovich, you need to calm down.” The nurse uttered, trying once more to calm the woman down. Ian’s ear perked up at the surname. If she had been called Smith, or even Gallagher, then that was a dime a dozen in the surname stakes. However, Milkovich wasn’t something that occurred often. He walked up to the woman and laid his hand on her shoulder, quick to say something before she turned round and knocked him out. He had learned the hard way in the past that small did not mean defenceless. 

“Hey, hey, I brought your brother in.” He said quickly, hoping to distract her enough that she’d calm down, “Mickey, right? I’m an EMT. I was with Mickey and we brought him in earlier.” 

“Where is he now then, assface?” She shouted, clearly immune to the Gallagher charm. There was something quite intriguing about the woman in front of him. She was feisty as anything. “I need to know where my brother is. Now.” Ian gave pleading eyes to both the nurse and the two security guards who had joined the scene. He knew how it felt to be overwrought with emotion and to be hemmed in was the worse course of action for them to take. 

“What’s your name?”

“Mandy.” Mandy. He knew that name. Mickey had spoken about her that night. 

“Ok, Mandy. We’re going to sit in the waiting area and nurse,” He glanced down at the lanyard around the other woman’s neck to be certain it was the right name, “nurse Mendez is going to see what is taking them so long with Mickey. You going to come with me?” Nurse Mendez scuttled off as Ian ushered Mandy to the waiting area across the corridor. He sat her down before offering to get her a drink. Black coffee, which he knew would taste like warm rat’s piss, not that he was a connoisseur. It took a while longer for her rage to simmer to something more akin to frustration. Ian let her have a moment, realising that all she wanted was answers. 

“I came in and they were just taking him to the OR. I don’t know what the fuck happened, or what they’re doing?”

“Your brother fell from the roof of a building,” He noticed as her face dropped. It was almost as if the news was something she was expecting one day and the realisation that it had happened was crushing her inside, “The wall collapsed on top of him and one of his workers. When we brought him in, we knew he had a broken arm, his leg had been crushed but there was no compound fracture, which is a good thing given the environment he was in. No chance of infection there. He did lose consciousness but he is alive, Mandy. They are just putting him back together.” She ran her hand through her hair and allowed her head to fall back against the wall. It was just the two of them and she would be damned if she lost her brother. 

“I know you.” She uttered, her eyes closed on the world. Ian braced himself for the words he had heard so often since leaving his former life, “My brother knows you too. The real you.” Ian’s interest was suddenly piqued. Had Mickey shared the story of their meeting? “He knew your name and he knew you have bipolar before you said it publicly. How?” Ian didn’t know where to go from this point. He had only shared the story briefly with one person. Now he realised that he would probably have to tell the full story to the woman sitting next to him, knowing his full recollection of that night was a bit hazy. 

“He saved my life.” He said, knowing there was no hyperbole in his statement. 

“Yeah, he saved mine too. He’s good like that.” Ian glanced at her and smiled softly, “Which is why they need to save his!?!” She shouted, none too gracefully, before slumping down in the chair.

“You know who I used to be?” He questioned, watching as Mandy nodded softly, “Mickey was the guy who stopped me from killing myself. I never got the chance to thank him properly.”

“I think he knew. We saw you in that interview, the evening show one with, what’s her name...?” Mandy clicked her fingers in an attempt to jog her memory, “Sylvia Sanders. My brother doesn’t show his emotions easily but it was all across his face. He looked…relieved. Happy, too.” Ian smiled softly as the pieces of that night slowly arranged in his memory. There was a comfortable silence between them after that. Mandy sipped her rat’s piss. Ian played with the hem of his hoodie. They spoke a few words to each other, every now and then, but Ian realised that Mandy was simply happy to have someone there beside her. 

It had been another hour before they were asked to follow Nurse Mendez. Ian could tell that it was good news. Her demeanour was relaxed and she was ushering them towards the rooms reserved for those with the less serious critical conditions. 

“He will be kept in for a while, just to monitor his stats and to make sure that he doesn’t have any adverse reactions to the medication he is on. His left side took the brunt of the accident. His arm is in a cast, and he’ll likely need more surgery once the swelling goes down. Thankfully he will only require a boot on his foot from the broken ankle once he is ready to be mobile. He had a collapsed lung caused by 2 broken ribs. He managed to escape any head injuries, which is a minor miracle given the height of the fall.” She glanced at Ian, who stared at her disconcertedly due to her candid speech. She quickly adjusted her tone, realising that she wasn’t just speaking to an EMT now but also the patient’s sister. “He will look quite beaten up and he was sleeping when I left him, but he is doing well, all things considered.” 

As they entered the room, Mandy was overwhelmed by how small her brother looked. His body was cloaked in the white sheets that were a given in hospitals. His head was facing away from the door, the slow rhythmic breathing showing that he was fast asleep. Mandy quietly pulled up the chair beside his bed and laid her hand on his. Ian was startled at how different he looked. They had cleaned his face of the dirt and blood, and he now resembled the man he met on the bridge that night. Just quieter at this point, less demanding. The demands he spouted that had saved Ian’s life. He watched as Mandy carefully rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand; his skin only just distinguishable from the colourless sheets. 

“He’s been in hospital three times in his entire life. The other two times were much worse than this. He’ll be fine, Ian. Thank you.” Mandy’s voice startled him out of his reverie. 

“I hope so.” He muttered, realising that there was something drawing him to Mickey. He wasn’t someone who was guided by fate but there had to be a reason that he was sent into that shout. Some greater cosmic reason why after all this time their paths had crossed once more. He realised that Mickey was likely out for the night, and he was dead on his feet, “I’m going to go. Would you mind if I visit tomorrow?” She glanced at him, her eyebrows quirked, so reminiscent of Mickey.

“You’ll visit even if I say no.” She uttered, with a small laugh. She could spot a smitten guy a thousand miles off, “But no, I don’t mind. I think Mickey would like it. Good night, Ian.” He smiled and saluted her, before leaving the room and making the journey back to his home.

****

Mickey woke up to the sun streaming uniformly through the window. He scanned the room and noticed he was alone. His recollection of the previous day was hazy. He knew there had been an accident, the cast on his arm and his body hooked up to various machines were indicative of that. He had this thought that he had seen Ian again but surely that wasn’t possible. And definitely not in the capacity of him rescuing Mickey. He shook his head and let a small laugh leave his body. Pain medication was a powerful thing. He tried to adjust his position to get comfier but felt the twinge of pain flow through his body. The nurse, a robust, older woman with red hair that was going grey in patches, walked through the door, smiling brightly when she noticed he was awake. 

“Good morning. I’m Carol, I’ll be your nurse for most of today. How are you feeling?” She asked casually, beginning to assist Mickey is readjusting his body without inflicting pain on him. 

“Golden. Can I ask a question?” 

“Sure.” She replied as she fluffed his pillow slightly and straightened out his blanket. He watched as she busied herself with the menial but essential tasks of making sure he was fine, such as emptying the bag of his piss that he was forced to pee into with him being immobile at present, “No blood. Always a good sign.” Carol said chirpily.

“They haven’t told me about Preston.” Mickey stated. He thought he knew what the answer would be, but he needed to know for certain. Carol paused as she went to hook his catheter back up, meeting his eyes and allowing him to read the answer all over her face, “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry, Mickey.” She uttered, hating this part of her job more than anything else. 35 years in the profession and this never got easier, “His injuries were just too severe.”

“I shouldn’t have let anyone go up there.” He let his head fall back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling, pressing his one good hand against his eyes to stop the tide. Mickey didn’t know what would happen now. As foreman, he was responsible for the health and safety of the site. He should have known every possible problem that could occur. He hadn’t and now his colleague was dead. Mickey sighed heavily. 

**** 

When Ian walked into the hospital room later that day, Mickey was like a changed man. He was propped up in bed, the nurses having made sure that he wasn’t putting any undue pressure on his ribs. However, the most noticeable difference, other than him being awake, was the glimmer of a smile on his face as he watched the small TV screen. Ian paused for a moment by the door and just took in the sight. 

“You gonna be a creepy stalker, or you actually coming in?” Mickey said, not taking his gaze off the television. Ian traipsed into the room and sat in the chair that Mandy had occupied the previous night, 

“So, we meet again.”

“Yes we do. You’re looking healthier than you did yesterday. You in much pain?” Mickey held up his pain control pump and smiled brightly. Ian could recognise the anguish behind his eyes. He may have numbed the physical pain, but there was a weight that lay on him. “Yeah, I’ve had a few of those gadgets in my time.” 

“So, I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself.” The statement seemed to completely come out of the left field and knocked Ian sideways. He guessed being trapped under masonry was not conducive to having a great reunion conversation, but Ian genuinely didn’t know if Mickey would remember who he was, what they had shared that night. He reasoned Mandy must have told him.

“Me too.”

“I recognised you, yesterday, but I didn’t know if you would remember me. And then shit went south so I guess I couldn’t start a conversation. You’re looking a lot healthier too.” Ian smiled, a deep blush rising over his cheeks. He wasn’t about to be humble about the last couple of years. He had worked hard to get himself where he was now. Every therapy session, medication rejig, nights when he restrained himself from letting the mania take over. He missed it, he was loathed to admit, but it was the truth. But he also knew where it led him, every damn time. “Guess I need to thank you for saving my ass.” 

“You saved mine first. Call it cashing in the I.O.U.” 

“You saved yourself.” Ian silently agreed to disagree. 

They spent the next few hours in relative silence. Ian still feeling the effects from his nine day run, Mickey dozing off occasionally as the pain meds kicked in and the toll on his body lessened. He wasn’t sure how he was so comfortable with Ian so quickly, but having the guy near him just made him feel safe, relaxed. 

****  
Ian returned the following day and they spent most of it playing cards, Mickey surprisingly adept a managing with just one functional arm. Ian began to wonder whether this was the first time he’d had to deal with a broken limb, before realising that it likely wasn’t. If his comment about beatings hurting more was anything to go by. He helped himself to the pile of candy that Mandy had brought in for her brother, before resuming the playful banter between them. He couldn’t understand how this was all coming so easy. He had never clicked with someone so fast. 

“Mick,” He said, having adopted the more familiar name for the other guy, “You’re gay, right.” Ian stated more than questioned. He knew the answer, Mickey’s declaration on that night still ringing in his ears after all these years. Mickey raised his left eyebrow, indicating that he was correct in his statement but unsure why it was being brought up, “And I’m gay, which everyone knows.” The right eyebrow joined its brother, “When you get out of here, do you wanna go for a drink?” The eyebrows remained floating somewhere near Mickey’s hairline. 

“You think that just cos I like dick and you like dick, we should dick about together?” Mickey asked, clearly not sold on the idea. Ian slumped down like a scolded puppy and tried to move on from the conversation. He was brought out of it by hearing Mickey laugh. “Christ, you’re easy to wind up. This is gonna be fun. Yeah, we can get a drink. I choose the bar.” 

****

Mickey was released from hospital a week later. His arm was still in a cast and he had to wear a boot for his ankle but generally he was in fine fettle. Mandy helped him hobble into their living room, setting him up so he didn’t have to struggle with getting snacks or drinks whilst she was in work. He’d been signed off work for another 4 weeks, given that his arm would need to be out of the cast before he could drive properly. Mickey knew he was going to lose his damn mind. 

Mandy had allayed his fears about losing his jobs, hinting that something had occurred at the site which may exonerate him from any involvement in the accident. He didn’t know how but he was quietly hopeful. The guilt has been gnawing away at him but he didn’t feel like he could express it, given that he was alive and healing and Preston was now residing in an urn in his mother’s house. He slumped back down on the sofa and rested his head against the arm. He scanned the room in the house he shared with his sister and slowly began to make plans for renovation. Anything to keep his mind active which didn’t involve him resorting to crossword puzzles and Sudoku. His cell phone, which was sitting idly on his chest, began to buzz against his clothed skin. As he stared at the screen, an involuntary smile crossed his face. 

“So about that date…”

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a third part to this. It might be a little while before I get to publish it, but it will tie off the series so it's coming. 
> 
> As always comments and kudos are massively appreciated. If you do enjoy it, please feel free to let me know.


End file.
